User blog:Spookalah/Shadowfrost Chronicles; A Calamitous Descent
The ice changed its song when the most recent Calamitous began. Shifting became shrieking, and groaning became grinding, giving clear warning of impending devastation to those with ears trained to listen. She had always been surefooted on the ice, but in these precious moments, every footfall had to count as she picked her way cautiously across a jagged landscape. The ice spires were alive with movement, vibrating with an intensity that only seemed to magnify with every passing moment. Sairaena used up one valuable breath to urgently shout out, “''Fox!''” Leaping to the left, she barely managed to miss being hit by a falling ice shard as it came crashing down from somewhere high above. A streak of black became the wet-nose and cunning jade eyes of the emaciated seven-tailed fox that had fallen straight from the sky three days beforehand. Then, stark loneliness coupled with her curiosity had fueled her decision to nurse the creature back to health. She reasoned if it could survive here in the ice, then it might provide some measure of companionship so far from her own kin and kind. If the creature should begin to suffer in the cold, then she resolved to make it a goodwill gift to a potential ally in a warmer climate. Either way, she became the injured vulpine’s nursemaid and caretaker while it mended from its rather unceremonious arrival; back legs over snout sticking up from the snowbank. Now, she assumed responsibility for the creature she had saved, bending low she scooped the fox up in her arms and made a dive for a furrow that was rapidly widening into a crevasse leading deeper into the glacial ice. She followed shifting channels in the ice by instinct, listening to changes in the tonal quality as she chose ever-changing paths with no hesitation. Behind her, the world was crashing into a glittering cascade of jagged shards and massive boulders, leaving only destruction frozen in her wake. The fox’s weight coupled with her own began to pull at her feet, bringing her toes to stumble when they should have pushed off with a leap. She knew this critical of a failure would give the rapidly shifting world behind her long enough to catch up and snatch the ice from beneath her. Alas, there was no soft landing below, only a chasm full of razor-sharp ice shards ready to pierce her ill-equipped flesh. She found herself tightening her hold around the seven-tailed fox, and she could not say if she held him tightly as an apology for condemning him to such a fate, or if she was cursing him for being extra weight in her arms and vowing that he would perish along with her. Either way, she felt the ice give way underfoot, and then … … the world took on a gloomy hue; lacking in all color and vibrancy. For only an instant, she felt stretched taut, her limbs prickling as if waking from a numbed sleep … … before snapping back into place twenty paces ahead where a fallen ice column had created a darkened shadow against the glacier’s side. There was no time to celebrate, let alone any time to catch her breath, before she careened through a fracture in the ice and found her footing again. Onwards, she followed newly created passages, down she slipped when a channel opened, and over she leapt a crumbling crevasse. Each time whenever she felt the ice gaining on her, certain their demise was just a heartbeat away, she felt the same taut sensation and blinked away a gloomy cast from her vision, only to find herself steps ahead of where she thought she was. Keeping one step ahead of calamity, the pair skirted disaster until the world ceased its unsettled motion. There she crumbled into a small pocket hollowed out in the glacier, heaving to catch her breath and shaking from exertion. She felt the fox burrow deeper into her grasp, curiously weakened as much as she and none too eager to slip away from her scant warmth. Safe, at least for the moment, she fell into the pitch-black abyss of an exhausted sleep. Waking brought the astringent smell of pine needles to her nose, competing against the sulphuric scent of coal burning at a dull glow. She could feel the intensity of a stare upon her, letting her know someone was near even before she turned her head. There, filling up far more space in the pocket than the fox-sized companion she had brought down deep with her, was a gaunt, pale-skinned man hunched naked but unabashed over the smallest of burning stones. Fragrant wisps of steam rose up from a roughly carved stone cup clutched between the man’s hands. The harsh angles of his face highlighted by the faint light given off by the coal embers gave him a vulpine appearance, but it was the same cunning look in his jade eyes that clearly gave him away and brought more curiosity than fear to her exclamation of a surprised, “''Fox!''” “''You have saved me not just once, but twice,” the man began, bowing slightly at the waist from his kneeling position, “''I must insist on being known by my proper name, and not an incorrect moniker born from your lack of knowledge. You may know me as …” He paused dramatically, boring into her with his jade green eyes. He gave an arrogant lift of his chin before pronouncing menacingly, “''..Kurokaze.''” After delivering his name as either a present or a curse, he waited with no small measure of expectation flickering across his face. Not knowing what reaction he expected, she temporized for a moment with a single blink before slipping into a traditional greeting spoken in her home language. “''Ar esta tolu ma,''” she replied, clenching her fist to her lips and blowing her warmth into her palm. She spread her fingers out towards him, as if offering that precious amount of heat to him in a show of greeting and respect. “''Yes, it did,” he countered, showing that he understood her tundra speech with ease, “''I feasted well upon it while you slept. Enough to regain a measure of who I was, and reclaim what I used during our harrowing escape.” The smile he sent her way was small enough to be considered polite but had an edge to it that made her slightly uncomfortable along with his words. He tried to soothe her with a smoothing gesture of his hand and a quickly offered explanation, “''Your essence, which you just offered freely to me, was all I dined upon.” He raked a look over her, like a starved convict about to be deprived of a last meal, before adding, “''Though you look to be a delicious morsel, I am indebted to you for saving my life. It would be ill-mannered of me to turn you into dinner before my debt is paid.” Rubbing three sharp-nailed fingers down his lips and across his chin, he mused aloud, “''Besides, I have never tasted anything like you before, like the cold bite of winter sucking the breath right out of your lungs.''” He inhaled deeply, reliving the memory for a moment before flashing her a vulpine grin. She couldn’t tell how much of his words were true, and how much he said it just to unsettle her. It was as if he was keyed up and waiting, eager for her to make some crucial error; like before when she stumbled in the ice and nearly cost them both their lives. He used his words, or a sudden shift in his gaze, to take the figurative ground out from beneath her feet. At that moment, she decided to treat his chaotic nature with cool indifference, refusing to play into whatever trickster’s game he was trying to lure her into. Tipping her head back at him, she replied, “''I accept your debt, though it will do me little good if we do not find a path back through the ice.''” “''I have found a way back up that is full of foxholes large enough for just myself,” he said, hefting up his homemade cup as physical proof his words, “''I took pine needles from the ground and brought them back here.” As he offered her the cup of warm pine needle tea held in his hand, he imperiously added, “''At no small effort to myself, mind you. It’s a nourishing brew, and will give you some much-needed strength to help you find your way back. There is a bit of a climb, but I expect you shall manage, somehow.''” She gratefully slurped at the rudimentary offering of tea, eager to wet her parched throat and put something into her gnawing belly. Though comprised of only fresh and dried pine needles brewed in water, she found the drink to be as nourishing as he promised, bringing her a sense of hope despite dire circumstances. When she felt strength return to her limbs, she cautiously stretched to standing in the pocket and began to take stock of her situation. Buried beneath a mountain of ice, she could only follow fractured sunlight up through scattered cracks formed high overhead. Beginning quietly at first, she started to hum a single note, turning in place and listening to how it echoed back to her from the ice. There, along the south wall, the ice returned the sound to her in a basser note letting her know the exact place it was thick enough for her ice-hook to sink in and hold her weight for a climb. With hooks, song, and fading strength, she slowly worked her way up through a narrow fissure, using her melody to find weak places to punch through or strong ice blocks to hook into. Her ascent was far less harried than her rapid descent down into the glacier’s heart, but it took no less instinct and meticulous planning for even a whisper of success. She could occasionally catch glimpses of the jet black fox as he took a far easier path, leaping lightly from shattered spire pieces over to a narrow ledge. Whenever she would fall too far behind, she would find the seven-tailed fox waiting for her with an almost chastising expression followed by a mocking sniff. Together, they made it up into a new world built upon the bones of the last. Their alliance was knitted together by tenacity, prudence, and a debt yet unfulfilled. From the Icespire Chasm, they would build upon that intricate foundation, and see what might come of such an unusual partnership. It was a changed world spread out before them, with stories yet to be written and songs still left unsung. Singing a song to echo through the passages, Sairaena let the ice know; she was home. Category:Blog posts